Projects

The Result Isn’t The Thing

by

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

In a recent discussion with Serdar – which seems to drive no small amount of my posts apparently – we were discussing writing and results. Both of us being writers, we’ve both put out a lot of, well, product in the form of books, blog posts, zines, and so on. We’ve also encountered many people who somehow can’t get product out, endlessly not finishing things.

(Also I hate calling my writing product. I also hate calling it content. But I digress, possibly enough to have a followup blog post.)

My terminology hangups assigned,I kept thinking about how people wanted to finish product (ugh) but never got to it. Never got a book done, couldn’t get a blog post out, and so on. They would talk about finishing but never get it done. Yet product was on their mind.

This got me thinking about how the focus on product is a problem, because product isn’t writing. Product is the result of writing. It’s the result of a process.

To write you have to write. Put pen to paper, finger to keyboard, and do it.

Except you also have to plot. You have to write things down, make plans, possibly throw them all away. You have to come up with what to say be it a mystery or the narrative you tell in a business advice book on textiles.

(Trust me, any good nonfiction book has narratives, it’s how humans think).

But to get to all that plotting you also need ideas. Brainstorming. Thinking things up. Trying things out. Breaking down in frustration and eating pastries when they don’t work (apple fritter is my preference here).

Then once you do all of the above and get something written you have to get beta readers, edit, run it through legal. If you’re self-published there’s formatting, covers, setting up, marketing.

Then, only then, do you have a product (again, ugh), because of a process. The actual book, the actual blog post, or wherever, is a small part of writing and publishing. Also by the time you’re done you’re probably on to something else, possibly to avoid thinking about the book you just put out.

But the product is just what a process produces, and unless you’re into the process you won’t get out the product. Endless speculation on the final product keeps you from getting it done. I say this having written any number of things, some stunningly mediocre, but at least they were done and real. And yes, I moved on because I love the process of writing.

I think the endless enchantment of the end result deceives us. We feel it can’t be reached, we feel it must be a certain thing, or we can see it but not get there. But it misses that you just keep going keep trying, keep putting one metaphorical foot in front of the other, and write. Yes it may not be what you expected – it probably never is – but it’s done and out.

I also think this is why the fascination with AI is so powerful for some people. They imagine product dropped in their lap or made for them, ready for a bit of editing and then delivery. But the thing is that’s not the process, the real lives experience, the building of skill, the you saying something. It’s not about being a writer.

And if you want to be a writer, you embrace the process (sometimes gingerly) and write until you’re done. Or done enough. Or just disgusted so you toss it out into the world. But it’s done.

Steven Savage

Less Time Among The Dead

by

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

Over the last few months, a past project has stayed in my mind. It haunts me – could I reboot it? Transform it? Restart it? I find myself re-envisioning how to redo the project, or change it into something else, yet nothing gets done.

I’m sure that you, my fellow creative, have similar haunts. You have projects long dead, on their way there, or buried hastily in a shallow grave. Yet their ghosts are still around, wandering among your thoughts and distracting you from current, living efforts.

I’ve had to confront my current ghost and decide, “you have to rest. The rest of your descendants may pick up the torch.”  It was quite liberating, if saddening.

We can’t burn time and energy on endlessly mourning dead projects or battling their remnants in our heads. That’s time and energy that we can use to do other stuff. You can’t ignore the living and focus on the dead.

So let me take this morbid metaphor of dead projects as ghosts and suggest some ways we can deal with them from my own experience.

Put Them To Rest: It’s time to let them go; decide you don’t have time for this. Mourn, acknowledge them, and move on. You can even keep a Necropolis of undone projects, you know . . . just in case. Plus, “interring them” may remove any guilt or fear of losing ideas.

Exorcism: Maybe you need to get something out of your head forcefully. Focus on another project, and store your notes elsewhere (or behind a password). 

Resurrection: Sometimes, being haunted means it’s time to return to the project. That’s fine – just do it as part of your planning, be honest about the challenges, and accept you maybe never should have killed the project. Live and learn.

Reincarnation:  Reuse the project, but don’t revive it. Do something else in the setting, transplant your ideas elsewhere, etc. Don’t revive the project – help it find a new and hopefully better life.

Frankenstein: It’s fine to take parts of dead projects and make something new. An incredible amount of creative efforts are like this.

We can’t stay haunted forever.

I would add that as you bury or resurrect back projects, ask yourself why it was hard to get to that choice. Some self-examination will help you understand your limits, help you grow – and maybe keep you from obsessing over dead projects as much.

Spend your time with the living.

Steven Savage

Surviving on Projects

by

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

I regularly complain about how the Pandemic has affected my projects -writing, coding, etc. You, my readers, get a front-row seat to that more than you or I would like. But I must note that having projects kept me sane during the Pandemic.

The Pandemic disrupted everything in our lives. We could not do anything as we once did without the threat of infection. We watched many of our fellow citizens fail us, and we watch them continue to fail us. Nothing is the same, and humans like at least a little sameness.

But having projects – a book, a website, a podcast – gives one structure and stability. These at least act as an anchor for one’s sense of self, a place that reminds you of who you are. Writing, art, charity, and other deep passionate activities can be expressions of who you are. Projects help us survive by letting us actively be who we are.

Every time you write, or draw or phone bank, about something that matters, that’s you being you. Maintaining these projects throughout the chaos of the Pandemic keeps you from losing who you are.

I recently realized how important this was when I assessed the impact of the Pandemic on people. In discussions with friends and family, I saw how having any project kept people mentally healthy. People without projects often faired worse.

There are lessons here for us to learn about ourselves, but for others as well. As we try to move forward in the changing Pandemic, we can maintain our projects. We can also involve others who need a focus to join our projects – or start their own.

The Pandemic has a ways to go in the US, and farther to go in the world. Socializing and society is changing. Having something that matters is going to be critical for the well-being of many.

Steven Savage